


Detroit High

by Irxnkeys



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Swearing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, its talked about a lot, most of the couples are super fluffy, the author is ace what did you expect?, theatre references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-07-07 22:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15917931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irxnkeys/pseuds/Irxnkeys
Summary: Markus wants to get through his senior year unscathed.*Kara wants the lead with all her heart.*Connor wants to stay valedictorian.*But things don't always work out the way we want them to, now do they?With innumerable cases of abuse, a family in the making, and a relationship that should never be, how the hell are these kids gonna get through the year?





	1. Markus

**Author's Note:**

> Whoop whoop, first multi-chapter fic! I'm really excited to share this with all of you, BUT before you read, please understand that child abuse, teen pregnancy, and some other darker elements are part of this! Be careful if any of these affect you! Your mental health is more important than a fanfiction!

Markus loved school.  
He loved meeting people, talking to his friends, and he especially loved being student body president. There was truly nothing wrong with his experience.

Until there was.

It started slowly at first, just a few inexplicable bruises here and there on other council members. But then it got bigger. More frequently, there were people he knew coming in with poorly hidden wounds, tired eyes, and hardened frowns. Something was happening, and Markus didn't like it at all.

*****

He tried to tuck his observations away in the back of his mind, and for a bit, he succeeded.

He was able to ignore the way that people tugged their sleeves down, the way the smiles they wore were so obviously faked. Yet it soon became too much for him to bear on his own.

"Amanda, can I speak to you?" Markus murmured at the end of the daily student council meeting, just managing to get the supervisor's attention before she left to go back to her own classroom.

"Yes, Markus, what do you need?" She responded in monotony. Mrs. Stern- Amanda to the student council members- had a voice that could make blood freeze, it was so cold. It sent a chill down Markus' spine, even though she seemed like she genuinely wanted to help him.

"There's something I've been...," he hesitated with telling her for a moment before determining that she was probably the most likely to take his thoughts to heart as opposed to dismissing them outright, "noticing about well, several of our students. I feel as though it's my duty as president to report it to you."

"Go on." Her response was immediate. Good, he had her attention.

"There have been many students in our council coming into school with various unexplained bruises and wounds, I'm afraid that something might be going on."

Amanda's brows knit together as she contemplated his words. She was never one to come to decisions quickly, but at the moment, Markus truly wished she was. Nerves coursed through him at the idea that she may brush him and his concerns off in favor of continuing her teaching as she normally would.

"I'll look into the situation. Though I feel I must remind you that even if they were cases of child abuse, you will find that they are not contagious. I doubt that as many students as you make this out to be are affected. A parent or family member will not harm their child purely because a family they know is doing the same." Her voice retained the usual icy tone, but he could pick up on the notes of condescension there as well. He was partially taken aback by how fiercely she had reacted, it almost felt like she was scolding him for bringing up what he had found.

"Alright. Thank you, Amanda." He murmured, shouldering his backpack and rushing out of the classroom just slowly enough to hear;

"It's Mrs. Stern."

*****

Markus focused solely on his schooling.  
He pretended not to notice the way that council meetings became harsher and more demanding. He acted as though he didn't see the pain that appeared to be everlasting amongst his friends. This was happening. Why couldn't Amanda- Mrs. Stern, his brain corrected- see it like he could?

He buried his nose in homework and books and float plans for a month without a single change. Simon, North, and Josh, his best friends and fellow council officers, seemed to notice the change in his attitude as he became more reluctant to join them on outings and get-togethers. North had attempted to approach him, but was met with answers along the lines of 'I'm just busy' and 'sorry, maybe another time'.

It worried the hell out of all of them and Markus was unfortunately aware of that fact.

An odd sort of normalcy settled over the school. Markus moved the situation to the back of his mind as he noticed that the incidents were happening less and less. He was able to rejoin his friends without the burden of horrific observations and was ecstatic that when homecoming came around, his favorite vice president approached him.

Or rather, ran at him full speed like a nervously-excited puppy dog.

"Markus!"

When he turned, he was met with Simon, his best friend of five years and the boy he may or may not have had a crush on for approximately ninety-eight percent of those five years. What could he say? He was a sucker for his smile.

"Hey...so, um, I know we're both gonna be busy for the majority of the time before it but, do you maybe want...to go to homecoming?" Simon's cheeks colored with blush and his hands clung tightly to the straps of his backpack. This would be normal, except for the fact that five years of knowing the blond allowed Markus to know that he was actually incredibly nervous.

He smiled softly at his friend and quickly let out a calm 'of course' before tugging him into a hug that was almost instantly reciprocated. For once, Markus let himself forget about everything, all of his schoolwork, all of his responsibilities, everything.

At that moment, nothing mattered more than the boy in his arms, and he intended to keep it that way.

*****

Life was...good, to say the least. Markus hadn't heard a peep from Mrs. Stern in quite a while, and a large part of him was thankful for that. He and Simon had been on two dates since the blond had asked him to homecoming, as well as one memorable double date with North and Josh. That had ended with...mixed results.

Everything seemed to be falling into place, and finally, Markus could do what he came here to do. He was going to lead, be stupidly in love with his best friend, and have an amazing senior year with his classmates.

He dropped it all when every hopeful thought came back to slap him across the face.

When Simon came in covered in bruises.


	2. Kara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara's a theatre nerd who loves her boyfriend so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scheduled posting? Who's she? Yeah, so these are gonna get updated as I write them probably? I just can't help posting once I've got something done, oops

Stage lights, dance shoes, belted notes, and music-filled stories were all that Kara knew.

To be fair, she had always been a theatre kid. It was how many things in her life had occurred and she adored every second of it with all her heart. She had managed to snatch up the lead role every year since ninth grade, which had won her a comfortable spot in her town's hearts as well as a scholarship to the University of Saskatchewan in Canada, the country's top theatre program.

Kara had everything. A budding college career, a formidable resume, and the love of her life.

*****

They had met in ballet classes, three years ago. Luther had been there to improve his balance for football season, and Kara had fallen instantly for the giant teddy bear of a guy who stumbled a lot in comparison to seasoned dancer Kara.

He had asked her to give him private lessons after class one day, and of course, she had agreed. Kara began personally teaching Luther after every group class, and as they concluded the tenth lesson, he asked to talk to her.

"Hey, Kara? Got a second?"

Kara glanced up from where she had been packing her ballet shoes away in her gym bag.

"Sure Luther, what's up?"

"Well, I just wanted to know if you would want to go out with me sometime? Maybe we could grab a bite after class?" He asked, anxiousness hiding in his voice underneath his usual confidence.

When he was met with only a shocked stare and a gaping mouth from Kara, the soft, hopeful smile that he was wearing slowly diminished.

"Unless of course, I am totally reading this wrong, in which case you can completely ignore me and-"

"Yes."

The boy froze and matched Kara's stare, his smile growing exponentially. He looked so gorgeously elated in that moment. His eyes were wide and catching the light that shone through the window of the dance studio, squinted slightly from the way his smile pushed up his cheeks.

"Great! How about...Friday? I'll pick you up at six?" Luther asked, slinging his own duffle over his shoulder.

"Definitely. I'll see you then, Luther." Kara smiled up at him and headed out, calling over her shoulder while he could still hear her, "good luck at the game!"

*****

Three years ago seemed like so far away now.

Three years ago had Luther throwing her a rose onto the stage for the first time.  
Three years ago had the start of a hundred dates that always ended in a kiss goodnight.  
Three years ago was thirty and now, now was perfect.

Kara sat on the bleachers with Luther at her side, their fingers laced together as they watched the sun begin its descent below the horizon line. It was one of the rare moments where neither of them had anything going on, and they could just be together. Even if Kara had pulled a muscle while learning the blocking for The Play That Goes Wrong. Even if Luther was covered in a sheen of drying sweat from the game that had concluded thirty minutes ago. They were together. It was enough.

"You did really well tonight, Luth, I'm proud of you." Kara murmured, squeezing her boyfriend's hand softly as she turned her somehow both icy and warm gaze to meet his.

"Thank you, Kara. I'm really glad that you got to see some of it. I know how hard you've been working on the play. Did they announce the musical yet?" He asked in response, earning a shrug from the girl beside him.

Kara let out a sigh.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" She whispered, pulling her hand away and resting both of them on the metal of the seat under her.

"I'm always thinking about it, Kara. It's like every day is a goddamn timer to the last moment I'm ever going to see you. You're going to school in Canada because you're obviously amazing. I'm...I'm here. I'm just scared that you're going to go to college and... I don't know, forget about me? It's stupid, I know." Luther fought out. His voice was flooded with shame and fear, as opposed to the anger that was to be expected.

"Luther...I'm not going to forget about you. There's no way I could ever just...forget about you. That's insane. I love you. You know that. Nothing's going to change." Her eyes turned back to Luther, and she sucked in a shocked breath at the fact that wet tear trails were glimmering in the light of the sunset.

It had been like this ever since a week after she had gotten the scholarship.

Luther's self-esteem had never been as high as he made it seem. He was nervous, anxious, about everything. He told Kara that it came with the popularity, with the role. You had to be constantly watching your step or something would inevitably go wrong. It was his ghost, it haunted him.

It didn't surprise her that he felt that way about this as well.

"Luther, look at me," she reached up to gingerly turn his face so that their eyes met once more, "I will tell you how much I love you every single day. I will scream it from the mountains until you believe what I say. I've loved you for three years, and I intend to do it for plenty more to come."

His lips curved into the faintest of grins, and that's when Kara knew she had him back. With her, all Luther needed was reassurance. Needed to be reminded that Kara had chosen him, and him for a reason.

Just as Luther leaned in to steal a kiss from his favorite person, her phone decided it was a good time to ring.

Kara groaned with pure annoyance, picking up the phone and muttering a 'what' in the flattest, most monotonous voice in the world. It took approximately three seconds for her to perk up.

"Sound of Music?! Tell her I'm in!" She practically shrieked into the mic before hanging up and pressing her lips firmly to her boyfriend's.

He let out a soft chuckle at her excitement, "They're doing the Sound of Music for the musical?", he asked gently.

"Yes! I'm so excited! I need to start studying the lines! I need to break out my sheet music! I need..." she turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

"I need to get a haircut."


	3. Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor really fucked up this time.

Listen, it's not like Connor was doing anything wrong. Not really, at least.  
He was a teenager, he was allowed to be in love, right?

Well, according to the law, no. Not in this particular case. But they weren't doing anything wrong! All they were was completely innocent!

Yeah, he would be able to make a better case for himself if the room wasn't pitch black with a locked door and his AP English teacher wasn't kissing him senseless on top of his desk.

But you know, live and learn.  
  
*****

It started three months ago, as cliche as it was, in a bar Connor had no business being in.

He may or may not have stolen his older brother's I.D. to get into the place, and he had been feeling particularly proud of himself for coming up with the idea to do so when he saddled up to the bar. He ordered a drink and reveled in the fact that he was there at seventeen.

Until, not three seconds later, the man beside him let out a laugh, and turned to face him.

"You don't belong here, kid." He grumbled, swirling his drink around in its glass.

Connor immediately froze, glancing over at him. Well, at least he had thought he had succeeded.

Taking a closer look at the man on his right, he noticed the pale bags under his eyes, the smug smile curved on his lips and the mischievous gleam hidden in his gaze. His hair was a mix of gray hues- a part of his brain quickly thought 'fifty shades of gray', but he chose to ignore it- that was pulled up into a minuscule ponytail, a few wisps of hair falling out of the band and framing his face. Connor couldn't help but focus his attention on the sheer ice blue of his eyes, the way that they reflected with different colored lights streaming from the signs behind the bar.

"Sorry to say, this is the bar where old men go to channel their inner alcoholic and drink away the pain. It's no place for someone like you." The man said matter-of-factly before downing his shot, only breaking eye contact to look Connor up and down. His gaze was intense, fierce, the sort of confidence that formed from perhaps one too many successful seductions.

Yeah, not today, Satan.

"Someone like me? You mean...," Connor leaned forward, supporting himself with a propped up arm on the bartop, "someone who doesn't fall for men who make advances that are more obvious than the gray in your hair?" He smirked, blindly grabbing his own shot glass and downing it in a way that looked like he had done it before when really he felt as though his throat were on fire.

That apparently failed, because the man immediately burst into laughter.

Through fits of laughing, the man managed to choke out a simple, 'I'm Hank,' extending his hand for Connor to shake.

"Connor. Was it really that obvious?" The teen asked softly, his cheeks lighting with pink as he spoke.

"Oh yeah, totally. That your first drink?" Hank muttered while leaning on the bar as he waved his hand for another drink. Connor nodded in response, and Hank smiled at him, which was totally unfair because his smile was absolutely adorable.

"Kinda...sorta...yeah..." Connor admitted softly, ducking his head to hide the way his blush only darkened.

"Well, welcome to the real world, kid. You're a man now. Let me buy you another one."

Connor agreed.

*****

The night that had followed was much like this one, cause once again Connor was pressed against a hard surface wrapped in a whole lot of Hank.

He had kissed plenty of people before, guys and girls, but nothing compared to this. It was like fireworks in the best way. A low burning settled in his heart that exploded into color as time went on. It was perfect, and being with this man, this man who was holding him as if he were something to be treasured. As if the world would fall to pieces if he were to let go. No one had ever held Connor like that, and he would be lying if he said it wasn't amazing.

Looking back, that was probably when Connor fell in love with the grump with a drinking problem.

*****

He had never gotten Hank's last name that night, nor did he have a way to contact him. They had gone separate ways after their rather intense make-out session, and Connor never went back to the bar.

Naturally, the name 'Anderson, H.' showing up beside his AP English class on his schedule didn't raise any red flags, so when he arrived there eighth period on the first day, he wasn't thinking much other than 'God, please don't let the new teacher be boring.' Needless to say, he definitely wasn't expecting a man he knew all too well to stride into the classroom and swiftly move to the front of the room.

Connor froze.

Why did his life have to be a fucking Pretty Little Liars episode?

Hank moved through his first-day routine in what seemed to be a relatively normal fashion. Connor was ready to just go home and hope to God that Hank didn't remember him. He was so close to getting free and then...

"Have a good day everyone! Oh, and Mr. Kamski, could you stay back for a minute?"

Shit.

The other students filtered out of the room, all of them earning a soft smile from Hank until the moment that the last one left, when he turned to Connor with the most enraged look he had ever seen.

"So, Connor," he started calmly, "you're seventeen?!" and then promptly threw the calmness out the window.

Connor shrunk back from him ever so slightly, holding his breath as Hank ran a hand through gray hair. He knew he shouldn't, but Connor truly couldn't help but remember those hands gripping his hips, the way the tiny, circular bruises had formed on the pale skin from a grip that was perfectly tight. The way Hank's lips against his had felt. The light conversation where Hank had explained that his was more of a drink-to-forget kind of drinking.

"I...can explain?" Connor murmured, meeting Hank's fiery gaze for the first time. Hank raised an eyebrow, silently telling him to continue. "I...I stole my older brother's I.D. to go out drinking, which is all I intended to do, but..." he drew in a slow breath, "but then I met you, and I just...I don't know. We split up, and I really never thought I'd see you again."

Hank stared him down for a solid minute before sighing and practically falling into his desk chair, his head in his hands.

"Jesus fucking Christ this is a mess."


	4. Markus

To say Markus was furious would be a gross understatement.

He was enraged.

Whatever was happening in this hellscape of a school was now infecting the people he loved and there was no chance in hell he was going to stand another second of it.

The next time they had a study hall, Markus whisked Simon away to any empty corner of the classroom and sat down with him.

He took a deep breath, and decided there was no way to beat around the bush.

“Who’s doing this to you?”

He received no response from his boyfriend and gently laid his hand on top of the blond’s, twining their fingers together.

“Please, Simon, I need you to tell me something, anything. You’re in pain, I can’t stand seeing you in pain.” Markus was trying to pull back now, he knew that he tended to express sadness with an angrier approach and he would sooner die than unleash that on Simon. He opened his mouth to speak again but the boy beside him cut him off.

“I came out last night. My dad...didn’t take the news so well.” Simon choked out, lifting a black sleeve to dab at his steadily watering eyes.

Markus felt every single angry emotion escalate to new heights, and he kept the hand that wasn’t holding Simon’s clenched into a fist so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if he had little crescent shaped cuts in his palm when he released it. How anyone could ever lay a cruel hand on the angel that was his boyfriend was beyond his comprehension.

“He hit you?”

Simon nodded, sniffling slightly and very obviously fighting back tears at the memory.

“He...He kept saying that he didn’t raise his son to be a...a f-faggot...and he kept screaming at me asking why I couldn’t be more like Daniel…”

Daniel was Simon’s twin, he had graduated a year early, was doing remarkably well at his Ivy League college, and had an internship at a Fortune 500 company. Simon looked up to him, and voiced that frequently, but Markus knew it hurt him to see the success of his brother when he knew that he would probably never leave Detroit.

“Simon...I’m...I’m sorry. I can’t believe he would do that to you. I...I don’t think you should stay there with him. It’s not safe. Just...come stay with Carl and I. The house is so big and it’s only the two of us now that Leo’s moved out, there’s definitely room for you just...just don’t go back there.” Markus pleaded, holding on tightly to the other boy’s hand. He knew Carl loved Simon, ever since the first time he had slept over at the Manfred house, Carl had made his adoration of his son’s best friend known.

The blond let out a soft sigh, smiling up at Markus and bringing their joined hands up to press a kiss to where they met.

“Okay. We can get my stuff after school before he gets home.”

They simply sat and smiled to one another for a brief moment before Markus spoke again.

“Hey Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

The mental image of a smiley Simon with pink-painted cheeks was one that Markus would never let himself let go of.

“I love you, too.”

*****

Later that day, as Markus moved down the hallway, he kept his gaze hardened in front of him, scanning the crowd quickly for one specific person.

He found her in her classroom.

“Amanda!” He called out, anger prevalent in his tone.

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name, and Markus watched as the shock on her face shifted and twisted into one of distaste.

“Mr. Manfred, what is it exactly that calls for you barking at me in the middle of the day?”

As soon as he was within reach, he slammed his hands down on her desk.

“I brought my concerns to you a month ago, and nothing has been done whatsoever! In fact, it seems as if this godforsaken virus has spread! These are teenagers, Amanda! Teenagers who are being hurt! You are doing nothing about it!” His voice only rose as he continued on, unable to fight the memory of his boyfriend’s skin and it’s multitude of off-color, horrifying patches.

“You had better watch who you are screaming at, Mr. Manfred. Lest you be suspended for such horrid misconduct on school property. Keep in mind, you have no true power over me. I am your teacher, your superior, and am charged with keeping you in line, or have you forgotten your place, Markus?” Amanda bit back at him, her frozen tone cutting deep into his soul as she stood slowly from her desk to meet his eyes.

“You don’t seem to understand the consequences of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, and trust me when I tell you just how willing I am to remind you.” In that moment, Markus realized just how alone he was in this fight. Amanda would never help him. Something was going on here, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Someone has to do something! If you don’t, I will take action into my own hands! I’m not afraid of minor repercussions for the greater good.”

“Ah yes, you truly believe that what you are doing is for the greater good. How wonderfully naïve of you.” Amanda stepped out around her desk, coming face to face with Markus.

“You teenagers are so...unpredictable. You should expect us adults to question what exactly we should do with you and your hormones and your utter insanity. More and more, we’ve seen teenagers believing that they can do things that someone who has a fully developed brain wouldn’t dream of doing. You’re all reckless and dangers to yourselves. You may not realize it, but your outrageous personalities need to be tamed. The only downside is that you are also remarkably resilient in the worst ways. You’re too tough. You need to be beaten down to keep yourselves safe.”

Amanda took a step closer to Markus.

“So we offered your parents a way to do just that.”


	5. Kara

“Wow…”

“That’s all you can say? Wow?” She teased, smiling back at her boyfriend.

“I didn’t think you could get any hotter, clearly I was wrong.” Luther chimes in happily, pressing a soft kiss to Kara’s temple from where he looked over her chair.

Her hair was short. And blonde. And Luther loved it.

“You’re really going all out for this part, aren’t you?” He asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked out the doors of the stylist.

Kara’s hair was beyond gorgeous, it fell against her cheeks in perfectly crafted sections and rested against her forehead in side swept, fluffy bangs. She felt...freer. Not as if she just had this cut for a role but as if...something was clicked into place when she looked into the mirror and saw this reflection staring back at her.

“It’s not just the part. I know I would rock Maria, but I don’t know...something just feels right about this look.” She murmured back with a soft smile on her lips.

“I’m glad. You look beautiful, Kara.” His voice was soft, almost dreamy, and he gently moved her to press against his side. Kara felt truly at peace here with him.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you, what are our plans for homecoming?” Luther asked, glancing down at her as they slid into their seats in the old truck he and his dad had spent years fixing up for him.

It was cozy, the sort of car that looked rough but had wind of love and memories ingrained into it. The outside was a light teal with a large white stripe that travelled over the hood to the roof. It wasn’t the cliche truck with giant tires and sharp corners, but instead was rounded and short, the perfect mix of tough and soft. It was just like Luther, and that fact alone always made Kara smile to herself.

“I don’t really know. Do you want to go all out this year? I mean, senior year, right? We kind of just showed up for an hour and went home to watch movies last year.” Kara suggested, leaning back in the large seat as Luther started up the truck and pulled out.

“We can, I don’t mind getting all dressed up again.” God, did Kara know it. Luther loved homecoming and prom as much as she did. He adored getting to find the perfect flowers to make her smile, hung onto every word of Kara’s very verbal decision making processes when it came to her dress, and loved the little smile that she got when he inevitably messed up tying his tie and she fixed it for him with nimble fingers.

“Yeah...yeah let’s do it. I’ll call Ralph later and see if he wants to go shopping for it with me this weekend.”

After that, the pair sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip back to Kara’s house. At some point, Luther extended his hand, and Kara twined their fingers together where they laid on the center console. This was just how it was sometimes. There was nothing left to say, no words needed to convey the fact that the affection they felt for each other was as real as it could be. It was almost sad when they pulled in to Kara’s driveway and she hopped out of the truck, starting up towards her house. She waved a quick goodbye to Luther and thought- not for the first time- about how lucky she was.

*****

“Kara! Kara! What about this one?”

She moved swiftly from the dresses to the suits, where Ralph was holding up a dark gray set with a giant smile on his face.

“With the light blue button-up!” He chimed once she was closer, and Kara couldn’t help but smile at her best friend’s giddy expression.

He had never been able to go to homecoming before, and his excitement for the event was extremely obvious. He had accepted Kara’s invite to go shopping almost immediately.

“You sure do love your blues. I think it’ll look amazing on you, go try it on.” She suggested softly, pride emanating from her like an aura as Ralph’s smile only grew.

“Well you know um...J-Jerry’s eyes are that blue and I just...like them a lot.”

Ah, so that’s what this was about.

Ralph had had a crush on Jerry for just over a year. They met after the musical the year prior where Jerry had starred opposite Kara and Ralph had been on their stage crew. They were both absolute nerds, so Kara introduced them. She knew for a fact that each of their crushes were requited, she just really wanted them to get together already so that they could stop tiptoeing circles around each other.

“You asked him to hoco yet?” Kara asked as she leafed through the rail of dresses that weren’t even her size, but we’re close enough that she could look like she had a reason to stay there and tease Ralph.

“No...not yet...but I’m going to! Maybe…? Probably…? I don’t know. But even if I don’t have someone to go with, I want to look good, y'know?”

“Yeah, I know. Go ahead, I won’t hold ya up anymore, Ral.” She joked sweetly, gesturing towards the doorway with the large sign that read ‘fitting room’ that was behind him. God, he was sweet.

*****

Ralph settled on the suit that he tried on, and Kara followed his blue motif with a short teal dress. Its skirt ruffled outward with several layers of tulle, and matching fabric created the illusion neckline. Dark blue flowers the size of her hand crawled up the skirt and bodice like ivy, curling into intricate designs that met at the neckline. She was beyond excited for homecoming. Ralph had promised that he was going to ask Jerry to go with him at some point, but truly, Kara didn’t trust a word of it. Her friend was sweet as could be, but he thought less of himself because of the scar and the...events that had led up to it. He didn’t believe in himself enough to actually ask the guy he liked to go with him.

Kara was going to work her magic at homecoming, and look hot doing it.


	6. Connor

Hank had let him go the first time, electing to solve this whole issue later, and it seemed as though they were going to forget everything that happened.

Connor could live with that.

He could forget about the fact that he knew that Hank tasted like salt and smoke and an inexplicable sweetness that intoxicated him with every kiss they had shared.

He could forget about how tightly Hank had held him. How he had treated him like something precious. How he had made Connor happier than he had ever been merely hours after meeting him.

Fuck.

Connor tugged his pillow over his face as he let out an exasperated groan, part of him wishing he could just stay in bed all day and not have to face Hank again. He fully intended to as well, until his door swung open full force and clanged against the door stop that Connor had attached to the wall after the last time.

“Alright, lazy ass, time to get up.”

Fucking Nines.

“I don’t want to. I’m gonna sit in bed all day if I’m lucky I’ll start rotting by sundown.” He groaned, huffing as he flipped onto his side.

His brother grabbed onto his leg and ripped him off the bed, Connor falling into a pile on the floor.

“Nines what the hell?!”

His brother loomed over at him in the cliche disappointed-mom-hands-on-hips pose, despite the fact that Connor was the older of the two.

“If I have to go to school, so do you.” Nines grumbled, rifling through a few of Connor’s dresser drawers, trying to help him get ready in the most annoying way possible.

Nines was Connor’s younger brother by a year, yet he was a solid four inches taller than him. Like Connor, he was at the top of his class in school, and he was almost identical to his brother. Their parents had adopted them together when they were a toddler and a newborn, and while the two only kept getting more similar in looks, they differed in personality from the get-go.

This situation was only one of the examples of that.

“Fine, fine, I’m up, I’m up. Stop bugging me and I’ll actually drive your tall ass to school.” Connor complied, resting his head against the chilling floor of his room. He let out a soft breath of relief the moment that Nines left the room, and he rolled back over to stare up at his ceiling.

Listening to Nines meant school.

School meant eighth period.

Eight period meant Hank.

Hank meant a very uncomfortable forty minutes and an even more uncomfortable hormonally-influenced situation below the equator.

Hank also meant warmth hidden behind steely eyes, smiles that peeked out from frowns like the sun in the clouds. Hank meant...every way that the world worked against Connor.

He stood quickly, yanking on the clothing that his brother had picked out.

It was going to be a long day.

*****

The school was as it always was. There were posters littering the halls proclaiming that the musical was the Sound of Music, a few scattered flyers for some of the clubs in the school, and a few, larger posters promoting colleges for seniors who were in the application process. It was always like that at the beginning of the year, and truly, Connor couldn’t wait until everything settled down.

Sure enough, the last period of the day rolled around, and once again he found himself sitting in front of a man who knew him all too well. For once, he felt like he was unable to keep his focus on school. Everything just felt like it was happening around him, like the world was turning but all he could concentrate on was how undeniably fucked he was. Maybe if he just flat out told Hank how he fe-

“Mr. Kamski, if you could not zone off in the middle of my class, it would be appreciated.” Hank called out, casting a stern look at Connor from his position at the front of the room.

“Sorry Mr. Anderson, won’t happen again.” Connor returned, smiling in his usual soft way and enjoying the way Hank visibly fought off a smile at the sight. The night they met, he had told him that his smile was extremely contagious, and Connor decided that now was as good a time as any to use that fact against him.

“As I was saying. We’ll be having a student teacher in the classroom for the remainder of the semester. Mr. Reed, care to introduce yourself?”

All eyes turned to the back of the room, were a college-aged man stood from a small table beside Hank’s desk.

“Hello everyone. My name is Mr. Reed as Mr. Anderson said, I’m a student at the University of Detroit, and I’ll be your student teacher for the semester. I’ll most likely always be in the room when you guys are, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask at any time.” Reed spoke, a sort of forced politeness evident in his tone. He seemed like the kind of guy you definitely didn’t want as a teacher. His hair was dark and slightly greasy, and his chin was coated in an odd cross between stubble and a beard. He appeared almost messy, even with his dress pants and button-up pressed to near perfection. Something about him sent a chill down Connor’s spine in the worst possible way.

The awkward silence that followed Reed’s introduction was ended by the bell going off, signaling the end of the day and causing the students to flood out of the class. Connor slowly put away his things, hoping to be able to hang back and catch a private moment with Hank.

When all the students were gone accept for Connor, Reed spoke up.

“Alright, Mr. A, I’m gonna head out. See ya tomorrow.”

The second that Reed was out of the room, Connor pulled Hank into a tight hug, effectively shocking the man.

“Connor, what’re you doing?” Hank sighed, yet still wrapped his arms around him. “Look, I thought we decided to just forget about this...hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t look like forgetting about it.”

Connor slightly tightened his arms around him, resting his head against Hank’s chest.

“You taste like smoke and salt...in a good way. You hold me like I’m something to be treasured. You make me feel like I can tell you everything and we’d still have a hundred conversations to have. I knew you for what? Ten hours? Yet by then you had already made me happier than I had ever been. I don’t want to forget. Hell, I don’t think I can.”

Silence.

Connor glanced up to gauge Hank’s response, only to see him take a quick look out the window pane in the door. When he turned back to Connor, his hand came up to cup his cheek, and suddenly Hank’s lips were on his again.

It was so much more than last time. Last time was fueled by drinks and bar flirtations. This was more than that, it was the return after too much time apart. When Connor pulled away, his hands were fisted in Hank’s hair, as if he were clinging to him for dear life. Hank smiled down at him, reaching blindly for a sticky note on his desk. He quickly scribbled down a few numbers on the paper before folding it and slipping it into Connor’s hand.

“Call me, text me, anything. We obviously can’t be together like this while we’re here, but Con, I’m not gonna let go again.” He murmured into Connor’s ear, his smile never fading.

Connor pressed a quick kiss to Hank’s cheek and ran out of the room towards the parking lot.

*****

A minute or so after Connor had gone and Hank started to pack up, another figure strode into the room.

“Y’know, I came back here for my bag, and you want to know what I found?”

Reed sneered.  
Hank froze.

“I found a teacher and his jailbait.”

The room was silent, and Hank felt his blood run cold in fear.

“So, Anderson, let’s talk.”

 


	7. Markus

“You’re...you’re a  _ monster! _ ” 

 

“Not a monster, a mother. I know what it takes to raise a child correctly.”

 

Markus eased himself away from Amanda, sneaking closer to the door. He wanted so badly to think that what he was hearing wasn’t true, that the reason for the motley of purples and sickly yellows and greens wasn’t standing before him.

 

He wanted to throw up.

 

Amanda had a dark smile painted on her lips, her eyes narrowed and menacing.

 

“Markus, don’t you see it? The way the halls have started to go silent? The way that everyone who has heeded my words now has a child who is quiet and dutiful? It’s perfect. Don’t you agree?”

 

Markus shook his head violently, perched at the threshold of the room and prepped to flee at any moment. 

 

“No...no I don’t. These kids...they’re  _ kids _ ! They should be loud! They should have personalities! They’re  _ alive _ ! They’re not something to be ‘perfected’ and silenced!” He yelled, gripping the straps of his bag like a vice drawn tight. “Something is fucking  _ wrong with you _ !” Markus was shaking with anger, pictures of Simon’s purpled skin flashing in his head the longer he looked at Amanda. She was steadily making her way towards him like a predator after its next meal, and Markus saw his chance.

 

“What are you going to do about it? You’re just a high schooler. You have no power. I win, Markus. Check. Mate.” Her tone oozed finality, and he decided to give it to her.

 

He ran.

 

He ran until he reached the safe haven of his car, and let out a sigh of relief.

 

Then the tears came.

 

*****

 

Markus shakily pulled into his driveway, equal parts relieved and terrified to see the silver shine of Simon’s car beside the one his father was unable to use anymore. The trunk was popped open, stuffed haphazardly with two duffel bags and a lidded plastic tub. 

 

He took a deep breath, stepped out of the car, and just as Markus began his walk to the front door, his favorite blond came out instead.

 

Markus couldn’t help the smile on his face at the sight of him. Even after the shittiest day possible, Simon could always make him smile.

 

“Simon!” He called out, his boyfriend startling at the noise and turning to look at him like a deer in headlights for a quick moment before breaking out into a similar smile. 

 

Markus made the quick dash up to Simon’s car to meet him, and wrapped a gentle hand around his waist, unsure where exactly the bruises that were hidden under Simon’s clothes were.

 

“Hey, how are you?” Simon chirped, fitting himself again Markus’ side.

 

There was no way he could tell Simon. Absolutely none. At least not until he knew for sure what he was going to do about it. God, he hated the idea of keeping anything from the boy he loved, but what would he say? ‘Hey Sy, guess what? Your dad either beat you cause he’s just a homophobic piece of shit  _ or _ he did it cause the teacher who we trusted with our lives started telling our parents to fuck their kids up to basically create mindless zombies of people!’ Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.

 

“I’m fine, just got...held up at school for a bit. You settling in?” Markus asked softly, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Simon’s head.

 

“Yeah, I already talked to Carl. He’s surprisingly really happy I’m staying.” 

 

“I knew he would be, he loves you! Y’know, he used to mock me for my crush on you every time you left one of our sleepovers.” Markus grabbed the two duffels from Simon’s trunk and started towards the door, his boyfriend laughing behind him. 

 

“Good, Daniel and Emma used to ask me the most embarrassing stuff when I would come home from one of those. Now I know I wasn’t alone. Hey have you talked to Connor about the AQT float for homecoming?” Simon peeked his head over the tub he was carrying, slamming his trunk closed before following Markus quickly. Simon basically knew his way around the house by now, and had started to set up in the empty room next to Markus’ that had sat empty save for a bed, nightstand, and dresser since Leo moved out.

 

“Not yet. I’ve been meaning to get to it. I don’t think they’re going to want to this year though, they don’t exactly need the publicity since JV and varsity are both full, plus they have a meet this week, they’re going to be busy. 

 

“Sounds go-“

 

“Well it took you long enough to get home, Markus!” Carl called out, and Markus let out a soft laugh at his teasing.

 

God, he loved being home.

 

*****

 

It was about 9:50 PM when Simon went to his bedroom and Markus let the happiness drain out of him. He cradled his head in his hands and let out a quiet sob.

 

“I knew something was up. What’s going on?” Carl asked, moving over to position his wheelchair beside where Markus sat on the couch. 

 

“I...I found out s-something horrible today, Dad.” Markus sobbed, his voice crackling and breaking as he spoke.

 

He slowly raised his head to stare at Carl with wet, reddened eyes.

 

“A-Amanda has been telling student’s parents to...to...hit them until they’re their parents’ definitions of perfect. It’s horrible Dad and I...I don’t know what to do…”

 

Carl sighed heavily, wrapping an arm around his son and pulling him in close. Everything in the air stilled until the surroundings were silent save for Markus’ occasional hiccup or outcry. When Carl finally moved away, it was several minutes later, and he seemed to be calmer than ever.

 

“Well...there’s one good thing that comes with the privilege of being a rich white man…” Carl teased, a touch of anger lining his tone as he breathed a calming breath.

 

Markus raised his head to look at his father, whose eyes glistened with unshed tears and something that looked a lot like…

 

“It’s that I can get a shit ton of stuff done when I want to.”

 

_ Rage. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took forever guys, I took a lot of time to think about how I wanted this one to play out with Markus’ reaction to the news and everything, but hey! Simkus fluff and Carl!!


	8. Kara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one’s a little short, and sorry for the long wait! I’ve been a little busy with life stuff and haven’t been able to write, but I’ll be getting back into the swing of things here soon.

“ **Good god, I needed** **_that!_ ** ”

 

Kara loved act two. Which, as anyone who likes theatre knows, is not a normal thing for someone to say. Usually, second acts are wrought with grief and misery and dying sons and dying wives and blah, blah, blah. But no, this time around, Kara  _ lived _ for act two. It was the only time where she didn’t get thrown around like a ragdoll constantly. 

 

She had the role of Sandra in their quaint little school production of The Play That Goes Wrong, and while most people treated the play like a second-rate musical, she adored it. Their cast was small, the stage crew far outnumbering them, and consisted of only her, Ralph, Jerry, Adam, Andy, Mary, and- begrudgingly- Luther. They were a small group, but an experienced one. 

 

Their director, Rose, treated them like family. With a cast so small, you really can’t be anything but close. She had been working with their group for four years now- longer for Kara, who had been participating in Rose’s productions since 4th grade- and the bonds were obvious.

 

Kara was on stage, doing all she could to help the guys throw her through the set window while still acting like she was unconscious. She was used to being- literally- manhandled quite a lot for this scene, but this rehearsal, she was feeling wave after wave of sickness roll over her. As the boys managed to maneuver her through the window frame, Kara hopped down from their arms, her eyes wide, glossy, and frantic.

 

“Five!” She called out. That was their signal for when they were going to take a break mid-scene. She had never pulled a five card since spraining her ankle in her heelies in The Little Mermaid five years ago.

 

Kara ran with single-minded determination. The bathroom wasn’t too far, but neither was the threat of vomit-covered linoleum at this point. Her safe haven was in her sights, and she let out a soft sigh of relief, even as she slid to her knees in one of the stalls and retched.

 

She hadn’t shown any of her usual signs of illness. She wasn’t sweaty- or, sweatier than usual-, she wasn’t inexplicably exhausted, and she didn’t have a fever.

 

Her eyes flickered down to the bag she had snatched on her way off of the stage. More specifically, its contents.

 

Truthfully, she had just picked one up as a joke when she had been getting a new sewing kit with Mary, but now it seemed as though the universe was playing some cruel joke on her, and she needed to be sure.

 

Kara pulled the box out of her purse, her hands shaking ever so slightly. It had to be the most intimidating inanimate object in the world.

 

This would decide her fate.

 

This would decide her future.

 

She took the test, and suddenly, three minutes seemed like three years.

 

Kara could hear the soft noise of footsteps approaching the door and the harsh squeak of the door swinging open.

 

“Kara? Kara, dear are you okay?” Rose’s voice seemed miles away and yet somehow 

 

Far.

 

_ Far. _

 

_ Too. _

 

**_Close._ **

 

Kara was always one to keep her head up. She never shied away from adversity or illness or pain but this was something unlike anything she had experienced before.

 

She had never expected this outcome.

 

She had a whole life set up for her.

 

A partner who loved her.

 

A scholarship to her dream school.

 

Enough talent to do well.

 

But now all of that was about to go down the drain.

 

Because now, of all times…

 

The stick turned blue.

 

“No. No I’m not.”


	9. Connor

This time, sitting in Hank’s class, Connor was buzzing with excitement. On account of the massive piles of homework Connor had on a daily basis, he wasn’t able to text Hank the night before, and was eager to spend time with his boyfriend after school today. 

 

Something seemed...off with him, though. As if every time he cast his gaze Connor’s way, there was pain in his eyes. Connor tried to shake off the uneasy feeling it gave him, but worry still curled in his gut. Something was wrong.

 

It became easier and easier to lose focus in Hank’s lesson. So much so that he almost missed what their new essay assignment was meant to focus on. The use of blackmail and immoral persuasion in their choice of novel. Three to five pages. Due a month from that day. Connor made a mental note, and went back to considering the furrowed brows and anxious creases on his partner.

 

When the bell rang, Connor moved slowly. So slowly, in fact, that you would almost think that he perceived time differently than others. When the students and Mr. Reed had finally exited, Connor dashed over to Hank’s desk, a blinding smile on his face.

 

“Sorry I didn’t text you last night. Homework, y’know? Comes with the Valedictorian thing.” Connor chimed, stepping around to the side of the desk where Hank was sitting and cautiously sliding onto his lap. 

 

“You looked so stressed today, are you alright?” He asked softly, pressing gentle kisses to his boyfriend’s face and letting his arms wrap around Hank’s neck.

 

He was shocked when he felt the man tense up under him.

 

“We need to talk, Connor.”

 

That worried him. The grave, dark tone of his voice, the way he didn’t even look Connor in the eyes, the way he twitched and flinched where Connor was touching him.

 

“What’s...what’s going o-“

 

“This isn’t going to work.”

 

Connor felt his heart stop for a moment. There was no way, absolutely no way that he had just said that. He shot up from Hank’s lap.

 

“W...What? What do you mean? Why? Did I do something?” It felt like he was begging. As if he were clutching onto a thread of the conversation in order to keep Hank where he was, to keep them where they were. Because suddenly this beautiful thing that Connor had  _ just _ gotten back was going away again and he just needed to know  _ why. _

 

“You’re my  _ student _ , Connor. Can’t you understand how wrong this is? We aren’t supposed to be together. We  _ can’t  _ be together. This thing was doomed from the start-“

 

“ _ This ‘thing’ has barely  _ **_had_ ** _ a start!” _

 

Connor could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, the way his skin was lighting and warming with the invisible flame of anger and sadness. His fists clenched at his sides, he reigned in the flood of emotions that had almost barreled him over.

 

“You need to be more rational, Connor. This little fling we had should have ended the moment we found out who we were to each other.”

 

“‘Who we were to each other’?!” Connor bellowed, every strain of despair in his voice having hardened into rage. “You were the man I lo-“

 

“ _ God you’re such a fucking  _ **_stupid kid_ ** _!” _

 

The silence that hung in the air was thick enough to cut.

 

Connor, in the calmest voice he could manage, broke it.

 

“Well. This  _ stupid kid _ is requesting a transfer.”

 

He turned towards the door, leaving as quickly as he came.

 

With the sound of footsteps echoing down the hall, Hank let himself break down.

 

*****

 

It was easier in the darkness.

 

When Connor was tucked away in the chilling confines of his room, his problems evaporated into the air. Here, he could pretend that today was a perfect day with Hank. Here, he could envision a life that would never occur. Here, he could bury himself in world of blankets, pillows, and bleakness. Here, he was safe from the truths of the world.

 

A knock was the only noise in the vast emptiness of the room, and Connor carefully raised his head.

 

“Who is it?”

 

From the other side of the door, “Your doppelgänger, and I have cookies. Can I come in?”

 

Connor let his body sag into the comforting blue of his blanket, and murmured a quiet ‘come in’ to his brother. 

 

Nines cracked open the door, his sharp blue gaze peeking through the opening before swinging it open the whole way.

 

“Hey Con. Dad said you seemed like you were having a bad day...can I help? I brought cookies.” His little brother held out the plate proudly, the soft smell of vanilla wafting through the stale air of Connor’s bedroom and coaxing his hand out to grab one.

 

“Thanks Nines. Yeah. Pretty bad day. You don’t have to stay and talk, I know you probably have better stuff to do than talk to your boring older brother.”

 

“Did Mr. Anderson break up with you?”

 

Connor shot up from his position on the bed, staring down Nines with eyes as wide as the plate he had brought the cookies on. For a moment, all he could do was stare and process the fact that not only did Nines know that that was why he had been upset, but that he knew about Hank and Connor being together in the first place.

 

“How...How do you know about that?”

 

“I have my sources.”

 

“Well who the hell are your sources?!”

 

“I saw you two after school!”

 

Connor froze. 

 

Well.

 

He messed up.

 

“You saw us...after school?”

 

“Yeah, I...uh...went by Mr. Anderson’s room to talk to you and I saw you two making out. Now will you tell me what happened?”

 

Connor sighed, falling back onto his bed. He couldn’t escape it now. Nines knew. So maybe he should just spill the beans and hope for the best.

 

“Okay. So it started during the summer.”

 

“Oh great, so it’s like the plots of Grease and Pretty Little Liars had a baby.”

 

“Do you want to know what happened or not?”

 

“Yeah, go ahead.”

 

“Okay, so…”


	10. Markus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortish chapter and the long wait! It’s holiday/musical season, so I’m busy busy busy!!

Homecoming came and went without a word from what Carl was doing.

 

He seemed like he was always on the phone, always doing something, always getting in touch with someone. He had told Markus not to worry about it anymore. That the whole situation would be handled.

 

But the last time he heard those words, they were coming from a woman with much more sinister intentions.

 

So Markus let himself worry.

 

*****

 

It was three weeks later when Markus finally got word.

 

Carl approached him and Simon one day and sat them down in the living room to talk. He looked serious, as if he had aged a whole decade in the past month. The wrinkles around his eyes had become deeper, his skin was almost pallid, and his gaze had lost its ever-happy glow. 

 

“We got a break, boys.” He grumbled, his hands interlocking in their position on his lap as he let out a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in for the entire month.

 

“And?”

 

“And I’ve gone as far as I can. I set up a meeting between you, the chief of police, and the superintendent. Because I’m advocating for you and you were the one who witnessed her saying that she was convincing parents to do... _ that _ , you have to finish it out. They need a statement from you to go further, Markus. Are you comfortable with that?” He had never heard his father so serious before, but in this moment, he was happy for it. A large part of him recognized that there was a huge chance that Carl could have rejected his accusations from the start and brushed it off as nonsense.

 

Looking down at where Simon’s hand was curled lovingly around his, he couldn’t help but remember the pale, purpling skin that his boyfriend lived with for weeks, and suddenly; he knew.

 

He had to see it through.

 

He was going to save his classmates.

 

*****

 

Which is how he wound up sitting across a conference room table, dressed in a button-down that was just a tad too tight around his neck, with a police officer and his district’s superintendent sitting across from him and a voice recorder in the center of the table.

 

“On this day, November 15th, 2018, I, Captain Allen am sitting down with Dr. Kamski, the superintendent of Detroit High, and Markus Manfred. Mr. Manfred is the student at the center of case #982400, and will be giving his statement.”

 

Markus took a breath.

 

He hadn’t really thought this far into the whole process, but now it seemed as if everything was so undeniably  _ real _ .

 

_ Breathe in. _

 

_ Breathe out. _

 

And speak.

 

*****

 

_ I knew Mrs. Stern for four years. She has been my teacher for my entire high school career. She almost knew me as well as my own father. We were close. She, my little group of friends, and I. That one teacher that you joke around with and trust and the one who just...accepts you. I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but that’s what it felt like. I trusted her. _

 

_ What happened, Markus? How did this all occur? _

 

_ I noticed it at the beginning of the school year. My classmates, my  _ friends  _ coming in covered in bruises that couldn’t be caused by simple falls or accidents. Bruises that looked  _ intentional.  _ I came to Aman- Mrs. Stern about it, and she told me that she would see what she could do about it.  _

 

_ And? _

 

_ And I waited weeks before speaking to her about it again. When I did, she told me that she had been informing parents that the best way to keep their children from becoming “troublemakers” was to...was to abuse them. She wanted to make it so that these kids became shells of their former selves. _

 

_ Is there any more you need to tell us, Mr. Manfred? _

 

_ No. That’s the whole story. _

 

_ Thank you. _

 

_ ***** _

 

**Simon:** How did it go?

 

**Me:** As well as it could I guess.

 

**Simon:** How are you feeling?

 

**Me:** Like a ball of trash.

      I think I’m going to throw up.

 

**Simon:** Do you need me?

 

**Me:** ...am I too clingy if I say I do?

 

**Simon:** Nope. On my way. Where are 

                         you?

 

**Me:** Bathroom by the E stairwell.

 

**Simon:** Got it

 

**Me:** Simon?

 

**Simon:** Yeah?

 

**Me:** I love you.

 

**Simon:** I love you too

 


	11. Kara

Part of her felt bad for soaking the soft fabric of Rose’s favorite direction leggings- the slightly fuzzy but super stretchy kind that made it easy for her to get up on stage and do what she wanted her actors to do- but another, much larger, part of her was agonizing about how gloriously fucked she was.

There was absolutely no way that she was pregnant. Not now, of all times.

"Kara, darling, what's wrong? I can only help if you tell me what happened." Rose's voice was soft and calming, oozing that maternal nature that she always had when talking to her students. It would have worked, as it always did between the two of them, but Kara was in crisis, and deep down, she knew that she would have to tell someone.

Slowly, Kara sat up- half wrapped in Rose's embrace- and wiped tears from her eyes. The full force of the words she was about to say finally hit her, and as steadily as she could, Kara choked out;

"Rose, I'm pregnant."

It was suddenly so real. Somehow, in the walking bliss of her life, she had managed to screw this up. Daring to take a glance upward, she watched the way that Rose's eyes widened to an almost comical size, the way that her lips parted, fighting the intense drop that her jaw had started to fall into, and the way her gaze roamed freely and yet flickeringly over the girl she considered family.

"Oh, Kara..."

It gave no opinion on the subject. It gave not a single speck of a lean towards disgust or disappointment or concern. It was stagnant, and it was probably an expression that had been drilled over and over again so that she could be unbiased when it came to situations like these. Rose directs for a living, she knows how to put on an act.

"I don't know what to do. This...This came out of nowhere and it's going to ruin my life, Rose!" Kara cried out, leaning into her director and resting her forehead on her shoulder as the tears flowed freely once more.

"It's okay, Kara, it's okay. I just...have a few questions if you don't mind."

Kara nodded but otherwise stayed silent.

"Is it Luther's?"

"That's the only option."

"Do you want to get an abortion?"

"I don't know."

There was suddenly a thick silence in the air. Kara knew that they had to get back to the stage soon, and if they didn't, there would be more questions. Most of which would come from Luther.

"You wanna go back to the stage? We can run the scenes where Mary steps in so that you can rest and then we can talk afterward?"

Kara nodded, and the pair made the short journey back to the stage without a word between them.

*****

The end of rehearsal came without another minute of Kara onstage, and she hardly was able to pay a moment's attention to it. Scenarios ran through her head non-stop. Luther breaking up with her, her father disowning her, the ruthless shouts of 'whore', 'slut', and 'skank' that would inevitably plague her once word got out.

Suddenly she was walking out of the auditorium side by side with Luther and she hadn't said a word in the past hour. It truly shouldn't have been such a surprise when he stopped her just outside the doors.

"Kara, what's going on? You ran out of rehearsal and you've been silent all night. It's not like you." He murmured, raising a hand slowly to press against her cheek, and Kara felt slightly better watching some of the tension leave his shoulders as she leaned into it.

"I just...got hit hard with something tonight. I don't know what to do and...and I'm scared." She tried hard to hold back her tears, but one still managed to slip by and roll down her cheek, chilling the skin it touched in the cold winter air.

"What is it? Are you okay? You're really worrying me." God, she hated when he was upset. They had been together long enough for her to know every effect he could have on her heart. When he was upset, it felt like she was torn in two. He meant the world to her. So it was at that moment that she determined what she had to do. It was time to bite the bullet.

"The reason I was acting weirdly tonight was that I thought that I was sick...at first. But I remembered homecoming and..." she took a deep breath and made sure that her eyes met his,

"Luther, I'm pregnant."


	12. Connor

“I’m seriously done with the moping at this point, Connor.”

“I’m seriously done with my nosy brother being in my business all the time!”

 

And so it had been for the past  _ week _ .

 

Nines was seriously starting to get on his last nerve. He was curious about how exactly his brother had fallen for Hank in the first place and was even more curious about what would’ve caused them to break it off.

 

Not to say that Connor wasn’t thinking about Hank and their spontaneous break up constantly already. It seemed as though his every waking thought was filled with the man who had made him feel truly, unceremoniously loved. It was odd to think that at seventeen he had already loved and lost. He couldn’t help but imagine a world where he never went to the bar. A world where rough calluses hadn’t trailed up and down his back and the taste of alcohol hadn’t slipped passed his lips, even though he hadn’t drunk anything that night. A world where Hank Anderson never met Connor Kamski.

 

A world where he didn’t have to feel those god damned tears flowing freely down his cheeks for the  _ thirtieth time this week _ .

 

“Okay. How about this?”

 

Connor felt the weight of his brother bow the mattress beside him. If there was one thing that had truly been helpful this week, it was Nines. He was annoying. And nosy. And interested in all the wrong ways. But he was helpful nonetheless. Wise beyond his years in the way he soothed his teary-eyed older brother for hours on end. 

 

“What?” Connor mumbled, the noise slightly muffled under the blanket which had awarded him a childlike sort of safety.

 

“I’ll tell you a secret, you talk to me about Hank.”

 

“You already know about Hank.”

 

Nines let out a distinctly out-of-character chuckle at that, and when he spoke, his smile shone through his words.

 

“I know what happened with Hank. I know how you met. I know about after-school make-out sessions and unholy things happening on desks-”

 

“Hey!” Connor interrupted. Nines shushed him.

 

“But I don’t know how he made you feel. So how about you tell me that in exchange for this secret that you will very much be interested in?”

 

The room was silent for a moment before an almost inaudible “okay” sounded from the pile of blankets.

 

“Go ahead, Con, I’m listening.”

 

Pushing himself to sit up, Connor wiped at one of his eyes, sniffling as he turned his gaze to his brother’s.

 

“When I met him he was so...coarse. He was grumpy and...and drunk and not exactly the most charming guy in the world. He was flirty and when he kissed me it was...it was like I was flying. It’s cliche and stupid but it was like nothing mattered until that moment. The world made sense when he held me and I knew what love felt like for the first time ever. Then, just when I had a grasp on happiness, it was ripped away. Now nothing matters. I feel like I’m...nothing.”

 

“Hank made me feel like I was...everything.”

 

Connor could feel his brother’s hand on his back. Could feel every movement and every shift of the fabric against his skin. It was meant to be soothing, he knew, but all it did was make him itch for a touch from the only one he couldn’t have. His brain and his heart were at war. His mind told him that this was his form of a teenage romance- meant to last a short while and be gone. His heart ached for the one that had brought it true happiness. 

 

“Guess it’s time for that secret, huh?” Nines murmured, and Connor could hear the shuffling and rustle of fabric as his brother pulled something from his jacket pocket. 

 

A cell phone, one that definitely didn’t belong to Nines.

 

“I got this yesterday. I was over at Gavin’s and I saw Hank’s name pop up and...I got nosy.”

 

Nines clicked the phone on and quickly typed in a passcode, swiftly enough that he had to have the numbers committed to memory. It opened to a screen of texts between the phone’s owner and Hank.

  
  


**Anderson:** It’s done. Are you happy now?

 

**You:** More than happy, you old bastard.

 

**Anderson:** Can’t believe your stupid ass is capable of even making a threat in the first place.

 

**You:** Watch yourself, Anderson. I’ve still got your fuckin balls in a vice.

 

**Anderson:** Suck my dick Reed

 

**You:** Sorry, no can do, I’m not your little boy toy.

 

**Anderson:** You better shut the fuck up about connor

 

**You:** Well, I guess he’s not your boy anymore…

 

        What a damn shame.

  
  


Connor stared down at the screen and felt exactly three things all at once.

 

Relief.

 

Shock.

 

Confusion.

 

“Who...Who does this belong to, Nines? H-How do you have it?”

 

Nines sighed heavily, his shoulders tucked in as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

 

“I told you. I got it from Gavin. Mr. Reed.”

 

“How?”

 

“I might’ve been…”

 

“Might’ve been what?!”

 

Connor felt his rage bubbling just under his skin, every other emotion flying out the window with six little words.

 

“...Seeing him for a few weeks?”


End file.
